


Redemption

by williewildkat



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, F/M, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Personal Growth, Snark, The Author Regrets Nothing, Training, Vampire Hunters, vampire lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22763731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williewildkat/pseuds/williewildkat
Summary: AU, Post The Dark Compass.After an attack from Dracula and intervention of anmAmerican hunter, Jack Seward is presented with an opportunity few ever receive.Dracula  is determined to track down this new adversary as there is just something about her that he can't let go of.
Relationships: Dracula/John Seward, John Seward/OFC, dracula/OFC
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again! Another damn story in a new fandom! I was NOT thrilled with the outcome of the season and TBH, I like Jack Seward. He has potential to grow and honestly, he needs to get past Lucy; hence my little vampire hunting American OFC.

_What is it about the vampire that is true?_

_We know they, like other creatures of the night, can exist in daylight. While their powers are considerably weaker, they attain the strength of 100 men or more._

_Silver can severely injure or if a stake of pure silver pierces their heart it’s lights out, no waking up._

_Wooden stakes only make them mad when you stake them in the heart with one._

_Garlic is as worthless as tits on a boar._

_Holy water is shit._

_Coffins are just décor._

_When they drink from their victims, they do absorb their memories._

_The need to have native soil is a fetish, a habit. And I’ve seen some freaky fetishes but this one ranks up there._

_They can and do cross running water as I have seen._

_Putting a rope with a bunch of big ass knots, hoping they stay occupied with untying while buried is absolute pure bullshit._

_Religious icons, specifically crucifixes, have no effect on them. I once crossed paths with a vampire who was quite fond of crucifixes; until I shoved one in his heart._

_They can control and summon the bat and the wolf and assume their forms which can be a pain when hunting. I mean, seriously, it’s a fucking inconvenience._

_Invitations into homes is still a necessity. I don’t know why I don’t make the rules._

_Vampires are highly sexual beings with indifference to the confinements of what “civilization” calls orientation._

_Dracula is real._

* * *

_**London** _

Lucy was dead.

Dr. Helsing was dead.

Jack watched as the coffin was slowly lowered down into the waiting arms of the furnace crew below. It was not necessary to stake her as no wounds on her neck had been detected when the ambulances arrived. Dracula had not touched her poisoned blood.

Few were present; mainly colleagues and staff from the Jonathan Harker Institute who wished to pay their final respects. 

She had no immediate family. He had been the closest thing she had to a son.

He felt numb. 

He had not cried at Lucy’s funeral but shed a few tears when he drove that stake into her heart. Her beauty had burned away, carbonized by the purifying flames of the chapel. She had been beautiful to him, even if her physical appearance was lost. 

His deed had been a final act of love. 

* * *

_**A week later** _

Night found him walking the streets, weaving in and out of club goers and tourists alike. It was summer, and the city’s heart was beating loud and strong. Jack wasn’t big on clubs and only went because of Lucy. Zev had called and invited him out, but Jack didn’t want to be around anyone right now. The pulsing beats of techno hammered against the brick and mortar confines which rested beside steel and glass illuminated with vibrant flashing signs hoping to lure potential customers in. 

Jack ignored these neon sirens and continued his pace. His path led him out of the hustle of sequins, heels, and bad cologne and towards a local park. The fresh air would do some good, perhaps clear his head after the tragic series of events that had unfolded.

Too bad he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings. 

Or he would’ve seen the tall figure emerging from behind the oak, hurrying towards him. 

Jack had barely lifted his eyes to spy the source of the rushing footsteps when a powerful force slammed him to the concrete. The wind rushed from his lungs, keeping him from screaming out for help. His back ached from the violent impact but felt his fingers and toes, thankful nothing had been broken. 

“You really shouldn’t be out here all alone, Jackie.”

He felt the single digit lightly dance along the river of blue that crossed his neck which continued its lazy waltz higher and higher until it came to rest upon the pulsing apex. The sharp tip of his fingernail drew circles around it as Dracula continued.

“Did you think I was going to simply let you walk away? Let you go back to that dreaded place? You remind me so much of him.”

“Who?” Jack choked on his answer.

“My Johnny. You have the same eyes, though his were a richer hue of blue; a hue that rivaled the Danube.”

Jack couldn’t move. He was petrified. What could he do? He had no weapon, his phone was probably smashed from being in his back pocket, and Dracula was now closing his hand around his neck, slowly closing off his airway. 

“Your blood is an inferior vintage like I said before. But in fairness, Jackie, compared to that fast food which passed as a French tourist, your blood smells like heaven right now.”

Dracula leaned in closer, inhaling the rich aroma bleeding through his pores. Jack struggled, determined to break free, only to have Dracula clucking his tongue in admonishment. 

“Watching you struggle is adorable. Most humans I preyed upon screamed or just froze but you, have a bit of a spirit in there; just like my Johnny.” Dracula leaned in closer until his lips, warm with blood from his feeding, brushed Jack’s outer ear. “I think I’ll make you last, Jackie.” 

_This is it……_

Jack continue to fight but was rewarded with Dracula laughing at his plight. 

“It doesn’t have to hurt.” He whispered before pulling away. Jack’s body tensed, preparing for what was to come. His eyes bore into Dracula’s as the vampire bared his fangs. 

The pain never came.

The thickness of blood never greeted his skin or clothing. 

Dracula wailed in pain as the arrow embedded in his torso, rolling off his victim. Jack felt his body spring to life, leaping up and stumbling to rise. Through the lights along the path he saw her. 

It was like one of those dreams where someone was running in slow motion towards you then suddenly everything speeds up.

“RUN!” She barked and drew another arrow. It sailed silently through the warm night air, finding its target in the hip.

Dracula continued to scream as the silver burned against his flesh. He tore at both projectiles, feeling muscle and tissue shredding as he ripped the one in his ribs out. 

Jack hid behind a tree, watching the woman pluck a third arrow out. He could see something else strapped to her back but wasn’t sure what. 

“Lucky number three,” she muttered and let it fly. The side of his thigh was its destination. Dracula dropped to his knees, flailing at the venomous projectiles.

She rushed the impaired vampire, seeing he was vulnerable. Her hand drew the sword, determined to run it through Dracula’s heart.

Dracula rose to see the hunter sprinting towards him with a sword clutched tightly in her right hand. A woman! A woman was a vampire hunter?! Was this part of those women’s rights Zoe referred to? Did this century ever cease to surprise and frustrate him!?

He could smell her: anger, rage, and something else dominated her blood. She was dressed in attire that reminded him of those mercenaries at the institute; she was a mercenary as far as Dracula was concerned. Tactical pants and black shirt with gloves hugging feminine hands were complimented with black boots and hair tied back. 

“Really!? A bloody woman hunting vampires?!”

The woman lunged with sword poised for his chest. Dracula turned, his nails reaching out and slicing through her arm. Ribbons of crimson streaked and smeared along her skin, dropping along the crisp grass. She rolled and came to a crouch, breathing hard and ignoring the damage he inflicted. Her teeth ground as she breathed between them through her pain. Her blood tantalized him, drawing him in as it fell freely from the wounds. She knew it was getting harder for him to keep control. 

He lapped the trickles of crimson which coated his fingers, a shot of vampire B-12 giving him enough strength to charge at the hunter. She was barely to her feet when the force of his towering form tackled her with the intensity of a linebacker. She couldn't breathe as the power of his assault forced the air from her lungs. 

Their bodies collided on the grass, with her on her back and Dracula hovering over her. Her arms were effectively being pinned above her head with one massive hand while the weight of his body kept her from shifting around. 

“Alexandra is it?” he whispered. “An American? From the New World…..The American South……” 

He leaned down, caressing her face with the same hand he used to pull the arrows out, painting her cheek and lips with his blood. 

“Your blood is intoxicating, Alexandra. Why is that?”

She remained silent, defiant in the face of evil.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue my dear?”

“Let her go.”

Jack was suddenly hovering over them with her sword pushing against Dracula’s back. 

“I told you to run, boy,” she growled. Jesus, this kid didn’t listen!

Jack didn’t move, instead pushed the blade harder, causing Dracula to howl in pain.

“Aim for the heart!” 

Jack quickly drew back, realizing he was an inch too low. Before he could correct this, the barrel of a gun was being pressed to his temple. 

“Drop it, please,” Renfield impatiently implored as he cocked the hammer. “Master, are you alright?” 

“Yes,” Dracula hissed through his pain. 

“Again, please drop that insipid toy, Dr. Seward.”

Jack looked at the woman who was glaring at Dracula. 

“The hired help? Really?” 

Dracula merely chuckled. “Renfield is quite useful, Alexandra. Now, please tell Dr. Seward to back away.”

“Do it,” she snarled. The last thing she wanted was this kid getting shot. 

Jack reluctantly withdrew, keeping the sword in a fierce grip. Dracula hissed and groaned as he rose, making a pathetic retreat. Renfield kept the gun trained on Jack as he covered his master.

The sound of a vehicle’s tires screeching in the night told Jack they were alone. He hurried towards the hunter who was examining her injuries. 

“Damn,” she shook her head. They burned like Hell; worse than any cut she had experienced.

“Y-you might need stitches.”

He watched her get up, clamping her hand over the torn skin as best she could. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she sighed then angrily added, “I told you to run! Why did you stay?”

“You were in trouble. Dracula was going to kill you.” 

The wounded expression in his eyes reminded her of a kicked puppy. She softened her tone when she spoke again.

“I’m probably going to need stitches. Dracula called you Dr. Seward.” 

“Junior doctor but I went through training on closing wounds.” His voice as soft, almost hard to make out. 

“I guess that makes me feel better. I’m Alex, vampire hunter as you probably figured out already.”

“Jack, Jack Seward.”

“Well, Jack, Jack Seward, show me what you learned in junior medical school.”

* * *

“Are you doing alright, Master?”

Renfield had visited a local blood bank, though blood snob in Dracula preferred fresh food, it would have to suffice. 

“I see vampire hunting remains a career choice in this century,” the vampire took a long slow drink. The infusion of lives, as he called blood, continued to mend and repair his. Every cell tainted by the silver was purified, made new again. “I’m certain it’s not something one would see at one of those career fairs as humans call them.” 

“This one almost killed you. She knew about silver.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me Renfield!” Dracula sulked in his plush chair. One of the arrows rested on the dining table for Renfield to examine. 

A woman! Women in his time didn’t hunt! They stayed in the home, tended the hearth, reared the children; not hunt! 

“Well, I was able to find out something about this hunter. Her name is Alexandra Koch and she is from Charleston, South Carolina. She is of Creole heritage and was born in Louisiana.”

“Creole?” Dracula’s ears perked up, interested in this development. “There’s a first.” 

“Uh, it means she’s of mixed heritage.”

“Yes, Renfield, I do realize what a Creole person is. What I meant was this is a first to encounter one of these Americans. Born from British colonies and on to become a dominant world power through blood and violence; my kind of dominance.”

“And rather, vulgar in nature,” Renfield added distastefully. He heard the intrigue in his master’s voice as he spoke. “They seem to have a love of obscene language and gestures, they have a problem with obesity, and not to mention their taste in cuisine. Who deep fries a candy bar or butter and passes it off as edible?”

Dracula ignored his servant’s rants. His mind had drifted back to when he tasted her blood. It was exotic, it had a rich flavor in which he had never been privileged to until now. And he had said himself he was a connoisseur and this hunter’s blood would be the equivalent to the rarest truffles that humans lust after. Yes, he really did enjoy this Creole/American blood. It tantalized his undead senses. 

But there was something else about her. The blood had something he had encountered before but where?

He took another drink, attempting to recall when. 

A few moments had passed.

It hit him.

The knowing smile crept up the corners of his mouth as he realized where his palate was treated to such. 

“It couldn’t be, could it?” 

He had to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have read and/or left kudos. I wasn't sure how this would be received.

Jack was awakened by a loud urgent pounding. He looked at his phone, noting it was 7:15 AM. 

Who in the bloody Hell was at his door this early!? 

Groaning, he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. If it was another damned Jehovah’s Witness, he was going to tell them were to go. 

With everything he had, Jack swung the door open. 

“Good morning,” Alex was standing on the other side. She was dressed down as they say, wearing boot cut Levi’s, short sleeved charcoal v-neck shirt, and some kind of hiking boot or shoe. A pair of sunglasses rested on the bridge of her nose, masking the dark circles under her eyes. Her arm was wrapped in gauze where Dracula had gotten her the night before. 

“Oh, uh, good morning,” he shook his head. 

“Sorry about the cop knock but it’s an effective way in waking people up.” She flashed a humorless smile.

Jack said nothing and waved her in. 

“So, how are you holding up this morning?” She dropped in the closest chair. 

“Alright, I guess,” he shrugged. “How is your arm?”

“Healing.”

“Right.”

“I’ll get to the point. This isn’t a social call, Jack. I’ve come to talk.” She paused and looked towards the kitchen. “Got coffee? I did not sleep at all last night and I am running on fumes right now.”

“I think so.” 

“You’re a doctor. Doctors thrive on high amounts of caffeine; at least the ones I know back in Charleston.”

“I’ll check,” he went to check the cabinets. Alex realized she should’ve stopped at that Starbucks on the way. 

“What do you know about vampires?” She was in the doorway, casually leaning against it. 

“Not much, really,” Jack shrugged. “Just what I learned from Dr. Helsing.”

“Which was what?”

“Stake in the heart kills them, they need blood to survive, they absorb their victims’ memories when they feed, and sunlight is deadly to them.”

“The sunlight part is false. Vamps can walk amongst us at high noon in the middle of a South Carolina July and it won’t so much as singe their skin. Silver is deadly to them. It goes back to the whole Judas ordeal. Garlic, holy water, and crucifixes are useless. You could wear a suit of blessed crosses and other icons and it won’t save your ass. Oh, and coffins are just for show.”

Alex gauged Jack’s reaction, noting shock was crossing his face. He knew nothing of vampires. She had her work cut out for her. But that was if he agreed to what she was about to ask.

“Vampires sure as Hell don’t sparkle in sunlight, they don’t eat food then vomit it up; in fact, they shun food. And they are not called the cold ones. I swear I could strangle that idiot author.” 

Jack simply observed her from where he stood. She was peculiar but given her American background, that could be expected. But then again, his only encounter with Americans was Quincey and that was brief.

“So, here’s the deal,” she dropped into a kitchen chair as Jack passed a mug over. “I’m willing to teach you; to train you to identify, fight, and kill vampires.”

“You are?” She found his surprise amusing. It seemed he wasn’t expecting this.

“Last night, you disobeyed my order and willingly endangered yourself to save me. You have something. You may not see it, but I do. I mean, Dracula is one of the most powerful vampires out there and yet, you had him in a precarious position.”

Alex paused to take a drink before continuing.

“Until that weasel Renfield showed up. Vamps with little minions can be far more dangerous. What do you know of this Renfield?”

* * *

Alex savored the Guatemalan blend as Jack explained how Renfield helped break Dracula out of the institution, threatening to expose what was really going on there to helping him secure victims with certain skill sets or knowledge that would provide the vampire every advantage possible. She found this intriguing. It would be worth a little research into the Jonathan Harker Institute. Perhaps they had additional information that could prove of use to her and other hunters. 

“You realize with Dracula still on the loose you’re not safe. He’s got your scent which puts a target on your back, rather your neck. So, that being said, I’m staying here until I go back home in two days. In that time, consider my offer; choose wisely given what is at stake here. If you decide to take up my offer, you come with me.”

“Wait, you mean I would have to leave? Leave London?” 

“It wouldn’t be permanent. Think of it as basic training.”

She knew he wasn’t going to like that part. But everything she needed to properly prepare him was at home. Not to mention it was an entire ocean away from Dracula and unless his minion had secured him a passport, they would be safer there.

“You’re a doctor, Jack. Doctors make decisions that aren’t always pretty or easy but if you wanted to make easy choices you wouldn’t have gone into this field, now would you?”

“No,” he shook his head. 

“Two days think about it. I’m going to grab my stuff from the hotel. Thanks for the java.”

“Wait, I’ll go with you.” 

Alex froze and raised an eyebrow. 

“Safety in numbers, right? You said yourself vampires can exist in daylight and you didn’t bring any weapons from what I can see. I have a bag with some wooden stakes. I know they’re not silver but at least it’s something.”

The sweet rings of blue lit up with hope. 

“Okay,” Alex knew he was right but would’ve preferred him to stay home where it was safer. “I do have a silver blade hidden in my pant leg as well.”

Jack hurried down the hall to get changed. A sense of excitement and apprehension took over as he rushed to put on a pair of jeans, grey shirt, and shoes, nearly tripping over his leg in the process. 

* * *

“I understand you met Quincey.”

Alex didn’t look up to see Jack’s stunned expression. 

“You know Quincey?”

“Sadly, yes. He’s a cousin of mine; different branch of the family. I refer to him as Pretty Boy or Ladies Man given, he uses his looks and accent to woo girls into bed.” 

_Alex was related to his one time romantic rival?_

Alex zipped up her bag, slung the backpack over her shoulders and gave a short nod. She frowned when Jack’s head dropped. But not before a glimpse of the pained expression caught her attention. Shit.

“Right, he had proposed to your friend. Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.” He extended a hand, offering to take her bag. 

She suspected he held her as more than a friend in his eyes. Quincey wasn’t big on the details of the funeral or the months leading up to it; let alone the fact he had gotten engaged in the first place. Figures since they had not spoken in a few years despite growing up together and spending summers between the ranch in Texas and the family home in Louisiana.

“Shall we?” She offered. “And don’t worry about tip toeing around about my cousin; you won’t offend me if you call him a bastard or asshole. I’m sure whatever he did, he deserved to be called it.”

Jack laughed a little as they headed out the door. 

* * *

It took another day but, Dracula was completely healed. 

Now, he was reclined in a chair, savoring a vintage Italian blend.

The chills, aches, burning, and overall Hell he endured were an afterthought as he contemplated his next move. He could track them down by picking up their scents then wait and tear their throats out, but what fun would that be? They would be dead rather quickly and that would be simply boring. 

“Master,” Renfield appeared with iPad in hand. “Are you feeling better today?”

“Much, thank you. Have you learned anything else about our American friend?” 

“Actually, I did. She was in the United States Army and did two tours in Iraq. She was the recipient of the Bronze Star and Purple Heart during her second tour. She saved three soldiers when they were ambushed by insurgents while taking two bullets herself.”

“Really?” His interest was piqued. She willingly risked her life for others even if meant her own demise. Clearly, she was not one to shy away from death.

“Well, yes. She was honorably discharged with the rank of Staff Sergeant and then resigned to Charleston. She earned multiple accolades during her time in service. I mean, her skill set would be ideal to acquire.”

“It does. Doesn’t it?” Dracula set his glass down. He wished he had been able to taste more of her blood that night. All he had been privy to was her name, heritage, and random images of a time not her own. Had she experienced these visions, he wondered. Perhaps it was the memories of ancestors who have come to pass over the generations or something else. 

The vampire remembered one stolen vision in particular. 

Ah, yes! 

_The thundering beats of horse hooves rolled past the modest building as the sun beat down through the filthy panes of thick glass. Rows of ivory hugged the narrow ledges; the first sign winter was approaching. The fire roared but its warm embrace failed to reach the furthest corners as the men remained in their long coats._

_They were chattering amongst one another as one busily gathered assorted documents and related paperwork into a thick leather satchel._

_“Here,” the man passed it to another younger man. His face remained unseen as the focus was placed upon the bag and its contents. “As you are the junior partner, it will be your duty to oversee this important business transaction.”_

_The vision shook up then down with gloved hands clutching the bag close upon the breast._

_“I will not fail. I realize how vital this is to the firm.”_

_“Now, here are your tickets and travel documents. Go home, pack your belongings, and see your fiancé, Harker.”_

Dracula smirked to himself at this recollection. 

“Master,” Renfield interrupted his musings. “One of our agents discovered our American friend is due to depart in 48 hours; to the United States.”

“Oh, we cannot have her leaving us so soon, now can we?” Dracula shook his head then took another drink. “No, it simply will not be allowed.”

Knowing what he did, Alexandra was not departing London. EVER.

* * *

Jack couldn’t but help to examine the dog tags. 

He looked them over, noting the information etched in the thin material.

_Koch, Alexandra_

_01692509_

_AB Neg_

_No Preference_

The blood type caught his eye. AB negative is considered extremely rare and that would catch Dracula’s attention. There had not been a single person in the program with this blood type. The closest had been AB positive. He wondered if Dracula had gotten a taste of Alex’s blood. 

If he had, she had a target on her back.

“Oh, you found them.” Speaking of said target. “I was looking for these.” 

“You were military?” 

“Yep, Army,” Alex draped the chain around her neck and carefully tucked the tags under her shirt. “I enlisted out of high school. There was nothing for me in Louisiana except swamps and gators and no job prospects.”

_It explained the disobeying order comment she had made._

Jack caught hints of an accent that laced her words. It was exotic to his ears. Growing up, his auditory capacity was limited to Irish, Scottish, and British tones with the occasional American (normally some god-awful New York or New England scratch) or Continent visitor he would cross paths with. He much enjoyed hearing those foreign tongues, but, hers……

“So, what do we do now?”

“Vampire 101,” Alex finished her cup and retrieved her bag. She unceremoniously dropped a large book before Jack, startling him. “There is both brain and braun to hunting. Knowledge is power as they say.”

Jack raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“Okay, think of it like you would when you started medical school; you have class time and hands on learning. So, read this and feel free to take notes. And please, don’t hesitate to ask questions.”

Jack flipped the cover open. It was thick and rigid; worn but cared for. It smelled of must but something else. He swore the pages would fall apart between his fingers, but they held fast in his mindful caresses.

Alex watched him as his boyish features morphed into one of concentration and determination as he absorbed each page’s offering. He paused only to get something to drink or use the bathroom. His posture straightened as he delved deeper into the world of vampires and hunters. It was a substantial amount of information to learn; she knew as she had been in his place once. 

It had been about 2 months after returning from her second deployment. She had started rehab after being discharged from Landstuhl in Germany. There was a lot of time between appointments. There was a lot of time to learn about new enemies. 

“So, I take it this means you accept my offer?” 


End file.
